People at Work

There's a woman here at work who works in the dull, gray finance department with sour-looking finance people (except for that one really beautiful guy). I have NEVER in three years seen that woman smile! She has long hair which is usually partially wet in the morning and she smokes so I often see her zipping here and there in the hallway and she does ZIP. She tears up the hallways as if she's always a few minutes late for a meeting and if you get in her way you can almost see the irritation rays jump from her agitated, miserable body.

Speaking of the one really beautiful guy . . . I don't normally like the "really beautiful" types. I'm more likely to get all gushy over the circa '71 Allman Brother-looking guy or even the chubby-but-totally-hilarious guy. But this guy is so pretty! If you work here, you'll know him as the new guy, "who just happens to be" black, and is unfortunate enough to work in the finance dept., and sits in the aisle cube. I caught a peek at his wedding photo and his wife is a knock-out as well, and I wonder what it's like for them to know that they are, without a doubt, the best looking people at any event they attend, even if that event is, say, a free Usher concert in Central Park.

Then there's another woman who sits somewhere to the right of my office, and I give her the evil eye as she plods by several times a day. If you are unable to pass her in a tight hallway you might as well relax, take some X, set up a bitchin' soundsystem and buy a bag of lollies because you're going to be there for awhile. If ravin' is not your thing, perhaps you should keep your receipts handy. It's a great time to do your taxes. When I say "she's so slow", I mean SLOOOOOW. I mean watch a sequoia seed from its light landing on the forest floor until its giant mass is inadvertantly shot down in a battle between post-apocalyptic humans and space aliens slow. And she never talks to anybody! Except for the one time I heard her say to someone that she has recovered from her back surgery, I have never heard her make a peep. I am a monster!

And then there are the Fashionistas. These young, single hotties use the scintillating prospect of spending the entire day sitting in a grey cube in a building located in a far-flung suburb of a whitebread Midwestern city surrounded by mostly middle-aged women or anti-fashion magazine younger types (that would be me) to show off their Carrie Bradshaw-esque wardrobe sense. And, unlike New York, there's no place to walk around here, so there's no showing off outside, either. I guess they could go to the mall. But who's at the mall at 10:45 on a Tuesday besides young, fashion-backward moms with strollers and grandmas in jogging suits? I don't get it. But then my wardrobe consists of a few pairs of dark-colored, lycra-infused "trousers" and solid v-neck t-shirts with varying sleeve lengths. It's not exciting--it's not gauchos with two layered tops and contrasting aqua stilettos--but I somehow manage to complete high-interest, creative tasks like editing brochures.

This is kind of fun! There are so many kinds of Work People! Of course, this is far from original. But no cartoonist has ever focused on MY office. This important work is up to me. More later!